


Nicking St. Nick

by magician



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Christmas, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot, Post-Canon, Seasonal, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-08-25 00:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16650751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magician/pseuds/magician
Summary: Jim and Blair are assigned to solve a series of burglaries where, among other things, all the victims' Christmas presents are stolen.





	Nicking St. Nick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unbelievable2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbelievable2/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, unbelievable2
> 
> Note: Giant thanks go to [Arianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianna/pseuds/Arianna), my beta and [Alyjude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns), with whom I bounced around ideas for this puppy. The final version is infinitely better because of them.

  
Nicking St Nick

"Ellison! Sandburg!"  
  
Jim and Blair had just entered the Major Crime bullpen when their boss's voice boomed out their names. Although it was rarely good to hear his yell, they didn't do any more than grin at each other--they'd shared a playful night of passion and were in good moods.  
  
They entered Simon's office. He offered them coffee, which they accepted. "What's up, Sir?" Jim asked, taking his customary seat in front of Simon's desk. Blair took the seat next to Jim.  
  
"We've got a hot case and His Honor, the Mayor, has asked for you specifically." He handed them two folders. "It's a series of burglaries."  
  
"And what makes this our case instead of Burglary?" Blair asked, opening the first folder. "It looks like they've already started the work on this one." He looked at the date. "Simon, this break-in isn't even a week old!"  
  
Simon tilted his chin to the open folder. "Look at the victim."  
  
Jim looked over from the folder he'd opened. "Angela Patterson, age 84. Should we know her?"  
  
"No, but you know her son."  
  
"Congressman Patterson?" Jim asked. Simon nodded. "The elderly mother of a powerful politician who also happens to be the Mayor's golfing buddy. Perfect." Jim shared the folder he was holding with Blair. "Look whose house got hit next. Dr. Felicia Adamson."  
  
Blair's eyes widened. "Of the Adamson Institute? Wow. No wonder they want these solved quickly. This would rate quite a write-up in the papers, to say nothing of the evening news. I can just imagine what Don Haas would say."  
  
"Her house was hit four days ago."  
  
"What'd they take?" Blair asked, flipping through the Patterson file. "Looks like they rummaged around for cash and jewelry and then took… Christmas presents?"  
  
Jim nodded. "Same here. I'd bet the vics put their trees on display in their large front windows with all the presents arranged beneath. Looks just like a Christmas card and practically screams 'rob me' to any thief looking for things to hock for a quick buck." Jim read some more. "Dr. Adamson was attending a party, so the house was empty. Pretty easy to case the joint and then just wait for her to leave."  
  
Blair nodded. "Same with Mrs. Patterson. Attended the Country Club's holiday function. She normally has a live-in housekeeper there but gave her the weekend off so she could visit her family. So, again, an empty house."  
  
Jim closed the file and looked at Simon. "You said this is a series, sir?"  
  
Simon nodded and handed Jim a third folder. "This happened last night or early this morning. No one has interviewed her yet. Apparently, she was either out of town or staying elsewhere for the night. The dog walker came by around 6 a.m. to take out her dog. He found the place tossed and called it in. Forensics is still out there. This is the preliminary report from the uniforms who responded."  
  
Jim opened the folder and scanned the contents. "Oh, for crying out loud. You've got to be kidding, Simon."  
  
Blair looked over at the paper, alerted by Jim's annoyed tone. "Marie Edwards. … Chancellor Edwards? You're kidding."  
  
"No," Simon answered, "and she's at her office oblivious. She needs to be told that her house was broken into and interviewed to find out what's been stolen."  
  
Blair stood up. "She doesn't _know?_ "  
  
Simon shrugged. "Usually, the homeowner contacts the police. When someone else calls it in, the responding uniforms contact the homeowner. Of course, with this apparently being part of a series and Edwards' status in the community, a Burglary detective would have done the honors. Now, that honor is yours."  
  
Jim scowled but kept his tongue.  
  
"Any other little surprises we should know about, _Sir?"_ Blair asked.  
  
"Well, yes, now that you asked so nicely, Sandburg," Simon responded, opening his humidor and pulling out a cigar. "You're lead on this case." He smiled without humor and leaned back. "Close your mouth before you catch flies. Now get out of here. I needed this solved yesterday."  
  
Blair stood there, his mouth still open. Jim scooped up the files and nudged him toward the door, shaking his head as Blair started to say something. "Let's go, Chief."

* * *

  
  
Blair had driven them into work, so they climbed into his Subaru and headed toward Rainier. Blair gave Jim a sideways glance. "You wanna tell me what that was all about?"  
  
" _Which_ what?"  
  
"You wanted to object to taking the case, then you just accepted it. And why am _I_ lead detective? You're the senior partner."  
  
Jim sighed. "You know we have to take cases no matter our feelings about them. As much as I hate how that… witch treated you and that she's _still_ in power even after what she did, she's a crime victim.  
  
"As to why you're the lead, Simon did that on purpose. It gives you more gravitas in dealing with her. He suspects that she'll kick up a fuss when she finds out you're handling her case. I think so, too. Just don't let her get under your skin."  
  
"Sound advice," Blair said, then shot Jim a worried glance. "Should we check on your dad?"  
  
"What for?"  
  
"Well, he fits the victim profile: rich, lives alone… I thought you might alert him to take extra precautions."  
  
"Not a bad idea. After the Foster case he installed one of those monitored security systems. After all this time without a problem, he thought about stopping service, but I convinced him that it's also extra protection for Sally, so he's left it in place."  
  
"Oh, well, that's good then."  
  
"I'll call him anyway--tell him to stay alert."

* * *

  
  
They pulled into Rainier's lot and parked in front of the Administration building, using a space reserved for Campus Security. They approached Chancellor Edwards' assistant and showed their badges. Her eyes widened in surprised recognition, but she simply asked, "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"  
  
"We're here to see the Chancellor on police business," Blair answered. "We don't have an appointment."  
  
She picked up the phone. "There are two men from the police to see you. … No, they haven't said. They just said they needed to talk to you. … No, you're free for the next hour. … Yes, Chancellor." She hung up the phone and pointed to the door. "Go right in, officers."  
  
"Detectives," Jim corrected as they approached the door. She nodded and watched as they left her desk.  
  
Chancellor Marie Edwards looked up from where she was sitting at her desk and immediately got to her feet. "What are _you_ doing here," she demanded as she frowned at Blair. "I seem to remember that under the terms of your agreement with the University that you would have no further association with Rainier." She folded her arms across her chest.  
  
Jim's hackles went up at her tone but, at his partner's subtle hand signal, said nothing.  
  
"We're here on police business, Chancellor," Blair replied, showing her his gold shield.  
  
"Ah, I did hear that you were with the police department now," she answered with a dismissive sniff. "What _police_ business do you have here?"  
  
Blair put his badge away and said in his most solemn and official voice, "Detective Ellison and I regret to inform you that your house has been burglarized."  
  
Edwards dropped her arms and gasped. "What? When?"  
  
"We don't have an exact time, but we think it happened either last night or early this morning."  
  
Edwards had a look that Blair had never seen in any of his dealings with her. She looked shocked and… a little lost. Then she made a noise. "Oh, what about Louisa May? My dog," she added, as the lost look changed to panic. Blair felt just a little sorry for her, much to his own amazement.  
  
"She's there and appears unhurt, according to the officers who are at the scene. Of course, you can check for yourself. It would be best if you went there now, so you can see to her and also give us some idea of what was taken. Are you able to drive yourself, or would you like a lift?"  
  
She stared at him for a moment and then, as if realizing who she was talking to, narrowed her eyes. "Of _course_ , I can drive myself. What are you doing with my case anyway? Shouldn't you recuse yourself or something? After all, we've got history and I wouldn't want someone not doing their best."  
  
Jim spoke up at last, his voice tinged with anger and thinly veiled contempt. "For your information, _Chancellor,_ we were specifically assigned to this case by your friend, Mayor Sanders, precisely because we have a reputation for _doing our best_. Any time you--"  
  
"Jim," Blair interrupted, putting his hand on Jim's arm to stop him, then addressed Edwards. "I think we're done here for now. We'll be heading to your house; come at your convenience. If we're not there when you arrive, one of the officers on scene will take your statement. If, at any time, you think we are not giving you our best, feel free to contact His Honor." He pulled out his wallet and handed Edwards his business card, then nodded and left.

* * *

  
  
"Well, that was pleasant," Blair said drily as they got in the car.  
  
"Why'd you stop me? I was ready to stuff her words down her smug throat."  
  
"You know why I stopped you," Blair responded seriously, then broke out in a grin. "Because I'm lead detective and I can."  
  
Jim laughed. "Okay, okay. So, what do we do next, Boss?"  
  
"Head over to her place so you can give it your once-over. If she's not there by the time we're done, we'll head to the other two." Blair laid his hand on Jim's thigh and rubbed it up and down. "Thanks for wanting to step in, but you don't have to defend my honor."  
  
Jim put his hand on top of Blair's. "Yeah, I know, babe. She just reminded me how much I can't stand her."  
  
Blair laughed. "Yeah, I know. It's real hard for me to feel sorry for her, even though she's a victim. Let it go--it's bad for your blood pressure." He sighed. "Besides, things have worked out pretty well, post-Edwards, don't you think? My stint at the Academy went smoothly, and Simon's clout allowed me to take the detective's exam right away.  
  
"I'm officially your partner, with the added bonus of a regular paycheck, health insurance and a pension plan. Not one person at the PD has hassled me and what my lawyer did with Berkshire and Rainier made the whole fraud thing go away, so testifying in court isn't any harder for me than any other cop."  
  
Jim shrugged. "All that's true."  
  
"Yeah." Blair took Jim's hand in his. "But the best thing is _this,_ " Blair said, clasping Jim's hand tightly. Not having you as a subject, getting through all that shit about the diss--it cleared the way for you and me to become _us._ I know we can't shout it from the rooftops since we couldn't be partners on the job, but--"  
  
"I don't know, you did quite a bit of shouting last night," Jim teased.  
  
Blair let go of Jim's hand, patting it lightly. "And I will again tonight, and every night, for the rest of our lives. So, let's get these cases solved so we don't have to deal with Edwards anymore."  
  
Jim nodded. Blair pulled out of the parking lot and they drove in silence all the way to her mansion.

* * *

  
  
Jim whistled. "This is her house? She makes a lot more money than I would have thought."  
  
"Nah, it belongs to the University. One of the Chancellor's perks is being housed here. She obviously doesn't need something this big for herself, but she's expected to host functions and impress visiting dignitaries."  
  
They approached one of the uniforms, who was standing next to his blue-and-white patrol car, writing on a clipboard. He raised his hand to them in recognition. Jim peeled off and went into the house.  
  
"What have you got, Paul?" Blair asked.  
  
Paul Jenkins turned back from watching Jim disappear into the house. "Uh, yeah. We questioned the dog walker…" He referred to a paper. "Tim Smith. Chancellor Edwards contacted him yesterday to say she was going to be away for the evening and wanted him to come by this morning to walk the dog. He showed up about 6 a.m., found the place a mess and called the police. He didn't touch anything except to retrieve the dog. He waited outside until we arrived at oh-six forty-five." Jenkins handed the paper to Blair. "It's all in his statement, including his contact number. He had to get to his day job, so we let him go."  
  
"Where's the dog?"  
  
"She's in her crate. Doesn't appear the worse for wear."  
  
"Good. What else have you got?"  
  
"We contacted the neighbors. No one heard a thing, but that's not unusual. The grounds are big enough that it's not easy to hear anything, unless it was a scream or explosion or something. Here are their statements." He handed more papers to Blair. "Forensics has finished going over everything. They'll be sending the photos and their preliminary findings to you. The house did have an alarm system, but the wires to it were circumvented." He stood up a little straighter. "Do you need anything else from us, sir?"  
  
Blair pursed his lips and looked around. "Perhaps. We're going to look around here, then head out to see the other burglary sites. Chancellor Edwards should be on her way. If she isn't here by the time we're ready to leave, I'll need you to do the initial victim interview." At Jenkins's alarmed look, Blair added, "Don't worry, I'll go over what we need from her. In the meantime, why don't you two take a break?"  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"You're welcome. And it's Blair, okay? It's not like we don't know one another."  
  
"Okay… Blair." Jenkins spoke into his walkie-talkie. His partner came from the back of the house and they left in their cruiser.  
  
Blair put all the papers Jenkins had given him into the messenger bag he now used in place of his backpack. He pulled out a pair of gloves, donning them as he entered through the foyer. He looked around. The place looked pretty well tossed. As expected, there were no gifts under the tree, although there were remnants of wrapping paper. He found Jim in the formal dining room near a huge cherry-wood hutch. Jim was crouching over some broken glass.  
  
"Find something?" Blair asked.  
  
Jim stood up and looked at Blair. "Well, I'm pretty sure it's one burglar and that it's a man." Blair raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Unless she's got a lover who uses Old Spice, but I didn't see a bottle in the bathroom."  
  
"Old Spice? He'd have to have used an awful lot for it to still be in the air."  
  
Jim nodded. "And I could smell it all over the place. I guess he thought someone living in a mansion would have a lot of valuables."  
  
"Yeah, that's be a good assumption ordinarily." He looked at the glass Jim had been crouched over. "What've you got here?"  
  
Jim waved his arm toward the hutch, which had decorative dishes and glassware on display. Half of the pieces were pushed out of place and some were scattered and broken on the floor. "At first, I thought this was just more of his carelessness, since he did a good job of tossing the place. But look at this," he said, pointing to the large pile at his feet. "If he'd simply swept the stuff off the hutch it would have broken in a pattern that scattered away from the hutch in the direction of the sweep."  
  
"Yeah, like blood spatter." Blair looked at it. "This looks more circular."  
  
Jim nodded. "Yeah, like he picked it up and deliberately smashed it straight down. And whatever he smashed isn't part of the glassware in the hutch. It looks like etched crystal -- not a vase, maybe a large platter. Something higher quality, like Waterford crystal." Jim narrowed his eyes, then reached down to pick up a larger shard. "Look," he said, pointing. "There's part of a letter inscribed here. I think this might have been a trophy or an award or something." He looked again at the pile. "Either this was really large or there's more than one piece here."  
  
Blair rummaged around in his bag, pulling out a small magnifying glass and looked at the fragment Jim held. "Yeah, I see it." He was silent a moment. "You know, this feels kind of… personal. Why would he deliberately smash things?"  
  
"Don't know yet, Chief. We'll find out from Edwards what these were. Let me show you the rest of what I found, Boss Man."  
  
Blair rolled his eyes but immediately followed Jim room to room, taking notes on what Jim's senses had revealed.  They also looked at the security alarm that had been bypassed and the yard immediately around the house. By the time they were done, Edwards had still not arrived, but Jenkins and his partner were back.  
  
"I'm surprised she hasn't shown up yet."  
  
Jim shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't want to see us. Let's head over to the next site and let these guys talk to her. We can always call her if we need more information."

While Jim took one last look around, Blair went outside to meet the officers. As Winona Yellow Robe strode toward him, Blair's mind provided the word he always associated with her: "Amazon". She was full-blood Yakama; her family was royalty in the Confederated Tribes. She was tall--almost as tall as Jim--with a deceptively slim body.  Once, at the PD gym, Blair had seen her take down a man twice her size as she demonstrated how to overcome an attacker.  During the time Blair had waited to take the Detective's exam, he'd ridden with Winona and Paul for a couple of days.  While he learned that Paul was eager to advance through the ranks, Winona was content to stay in Patrol.  When he'd asked, she'd shrugged and answered simply, "It keeps me closer to the tribe."  
  
"Hey, Winona, how's it going?"  
  
"Great," she answered.  "This neighborhood has a swankier coffee shop than we're used to.   It had the best almond croissant I've tasted since I returned from Marseilles.  Did you need anything from us?"  
  
"Yeah, we need to leave, and Chancellor Edwards still hasn't shown up.  Can you do the victim's interview?  I told Paul he might need to do it and he didn't seem very enthusiastic."  
  
She chuckled.  "Paul attended Rainier a couple of years ago and witnessed Edwards reaming out one of his professors in front of the whole class.  I think he's scared of her."  
  
Blair grinned. "I can relate. Well, I _know_ she's not going to intimidate _you_. Besides the usual, can you ask her what's in the pile of glass on the right side of the dining room hutch? It looks like it might be a trophy or an award, maybe two. If she can't give you a good answer, we'll want the glass picked up and brought to the station."  
  
Winona nodded her understanding and gave him a grin. "You've got it, Blair. If she doesn't show up soon, we'll track her down."  
  
Blair touched her arm gently. "Thanks. We'll catch up later." With that, he headed to the car where Jim was waiting.

* * *

  
  
After getting approval from Mrs. Patterson to visit her home, Blair called Felicia Adamson. "You heard all that?" he asked. Jim nodded. "Well, since we can visit Mrs. Patterson's place any time this afternoon and Dr. Adamson will meet us at 1, how about we grab some lunch?"  
  
"Okay, how about Chan's? That'll put us in the neighborhood. Unless, as lead detective, you feel the need to pick the place?"  
  
"One more 'lead' remark and I'm gonna hurt you." Jim smirked and climbed in the passenger seat.

* * *

  
  
While they waited for their meal, Blair asked, "So, what do we know so far?"  
  
Jim made a face. "Can't we eat in peace?" he complained.  
  
"Ordinarily, I'd say yes. But my gut and Simon are telling me we need to get this done and dusted. Besides, I'm looking forward to telling Miss Marie that we solved her case. So, let's get cracking."  
  
Jim let out a gust of breath. "It's hard to tell with only three hits, especially since we haven’t seen the other two yet. The victims were all women who lived alone. They were all wealthy. They all had houses that were far enough away from neighbors, so it would have been easy to get in and out without being seen."  
  
"The houses were empty," Blair added. "That might indicate the burglar wanted to make sure it didn't escalate to assault or murder."  
  
Jim shrugged. "That's conjecture at this point. The burglar was experienced and skilled enough to know how to override the security system at Edwards' place. That points to a pro."  
  
"Yeah, it kind of rules out amateurs, like kids or junkies looking to pawn what they found for a fix."  
  
Just then their food arrived. They stopped shop talk for the rest of the meal.

* * *

  
  
"I'm sorry I must rush off, gentlemen. I have a meeting I just can't reschedule." Felicia Adamson was a striking woman in her late fifties. She was a few inches taller than Blair, but the heels she wore put her height closer to Jim's.  She was slender with brown eyes; her auburn hair was arranged in an elegant chignon. She wore a two-piece casual suit -- a long flowing dress coat over wide-leg trousers, all in a pastel flower-patterned silk. She handed a key to Blair. "Just lock the door when you're done and drop it over at the Institute's front desk."  
  
"Thank you, Dr. Adamson," Blair responded. "We won't be here that long. It's just, with our taking over the case, we want to make sure we've got everything covered."  
  
"I'm not sure what you'll find," she replied. "I cleaned up everything, although there wasn't a lot to do. Mostly cleaning my clothes after seeing how they pawed through my drawers." She shuddered. "Well, I'd appreciate whatever you can do, especially recovering the First Nation piece." With that, she left.  
  
They closed the door and started moving toward the front room where the Christmas tree--without presents--stood. "Did you see that outfit? I wonder where she got it. That would look great on Naomi, and I haven't gotten her a Solstice present yet."  
  
Jim shook his head. "It might be a little pricey. That was real silk, and lots of it."  
  
Blair sighed. "I should have asked her. Too bad you couldn't see the label."  
  
"X-ray vision isn't one of my super-powers, Chief. Can we get started now?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, sure. Go forth and sense, man."  
  
The living room was as clean as Adamson had predicted. Jim couldn't find anything there. The same with her bedroom dresser drawers. They smelled of laundry soap and not much else. However, when Jim opened the closet, he found something. "It's here, Chief," he said. "Old Spice, just a faint whiff."  
  
"Well, now we know the guy's responsible for two. Jeez, he must bathe in it for you to smell him days later."  
  
"Maybe not. If he went into the closet but didn't mess around too much, she might not have realized he'd been in there. The closed door would hold in the smell longer." Jim closed the door. "Well, other than that smell, I don't see anything else. Let's finish looking at the house and grounds and then head over to the Patterson place."

* * *

  
  
Angela Patterson's housekeeper answered the door when they rang, looking harried. "I've got a cake in the oven. Are you able to find what you need without my help?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"It smells delicious," Blair responded. "We shouldn't be too long, and we can make our way around. We'll stop in to see you before we leave." She nodded and left.  
  
Unfortunately, Jim couldn't find any scent of Old Spice anywhere. It was either a different burglar, or the smell had dissipated in the time since the burglary had occurred. The M.O. was the same as the others: coming in through a window using a glass cutter, rifling through bedroom drawers obviously looking for valuables, and taking the Christmas presents. They agreed it was enough to assume that all three were done by the same perpetrator. They bade goodbye to the housekeeper, who gave them some cookies for the road, and headed back to the precinct.

* * *

  
  
They stopped by Forensics to pick up the photos and reports on the Edwards mansion. In Blair's inbox was Officer Yellow Robe's report. "Hey, you were right, not that I ever doubted you," Blair said.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Those smashed things at Edwards' place. One was a plate celebrating her ten-year anniversary as Chancellor. The other plate was--" he snorted, "--her winning the Cascade Country Club Women's Gold Tournament last year. And, get this, the golf trophy _was_ Waterford. Good eyes, man," he teased.  
  
Jim grunted but didn't respond. Blair looked up to see him opening and closing one file, then another, obviously looking for something. "Whatcha got?" Blair asked.  
  
"Not sure, but something seems hinky. Let's move to a conference room so I can lay these out." He sighed. "And I need some caffeine."  
  
"Go ahead and set it up in Room 2. I'll make a fresh pot."

* * *

  
  
"So," Blair repeated as he entered the room with two cups of coffee, handing one to Jim, "Whatcha got?"  
  
"Well, that thing with the smashed awards has been…"  
  
"Setting your spidey senses tingling?"  
  
"Yeah. Look," Jim pointed at the reports of all three sites. "Christmas presents taken--all three. Rummaging through bedroom dressers for valuables--all three. Wanton destruction of property, only Edwards."  
  
Blair nodded. "I was thinking when I saw it that if I'd been less mature and had the chance last year, I might have done that myself."  
  
"And if you were a can short of a six-pack. This has got a definite 'bent' feel to it."  
  
Blair drank his coffee as he mulled over the new theory. "So, if you're thinking that Edwards' break-in was a little more personal, or even the primary target, then what were the other two… a smokescreen?"  
  
"Well, it's not something we can dismiss. We know that Paul Jenkins witnessed her browbeating a teacher and we know what she did to you. What are the chances someone else has an ax to grind?"  
  
Blair looked thoughtfully at the files, comparing the three scenes. Just then, the conference room door opened, and Simon walked in. "Well, gentlemen," he said without preamble, "what have you got?"  
  
Blair got up and headed for the door. "Fill him in," he said to Jim.  
  
"Just a minute," Simon objected. "I want to hear it from the lead," he said with just a hint of humor.  
  
Blair grinned at him, "I'm delegating. I've got to talk to one of my contacts," he added and walked out the door.  
  
Simon looked at Jim. "One of his contacts? He has a snitch?"  
  
"No idea," Jim answered, looking at the door but not following Blair with his hearing. Blair would tell him everything later. "Here's what we've got so far, but first let me thank you for this case, sir," he said with a touch of sarcasm. "It was so pleasant dealing with Edwards again."  
  
Simon chuckled. "I aim to please," he said as he sat down in the chair Blair had vacated. "Tell me you've got something that will get the Mayor off my back."

* * *

  
  
"So, Simon seemed satisfied with our progress, except, of course, that we don't actually have anyone in custody yet," Blair said as they were driving home. "Did he elaborate?"  
  
Jim shrugged. "You know Simon. He's not going to be handing out any compliments until the cases are solved. He didn't think our theory was off-base, though." Jim rotated his neck, making it pop. "I'm too tired to cook. Wanna order a pizza?"  
  
Blair snorted, "We've already used up our week's worth of salt at Chan's." He thought for a few seconds. "How about Big Chickie's? You like the Peruvian spices on their chicken and they have great sides." Jim nodded his agreement.

* * *

  
  
Blair unpacked the food and put it in a warm oven while Jim showered, then took one himself while Jim set the table. Blair came out of the bathroom in the sweats Jim had brought in to him. He sighed and went over to give Jim a long hug, which Jim returned. The day had been long and stressful, but they made it through. They separated, and Jim brought the food to the table while Blair opened two beers. They served up the food and tucked in.  
  
Jim looked up from his plate. "I faxed pictures of the stolen jewelry to the local pawn shops. I don't think it will net anything, but…"  
  
"It can't hurt. What jewelry was there that you actually had pictures of?"  
  
"Nothing from Mrs. Patterson--she keeps most of her good jewelry in a bank safe deposit box. What she did have out she was wearing to the country club party. Dr. Adamson lost a really ornate turquoise and silver squash-blossom necklace. She had a newspaper clipping that covered one of her charity events. It had a nice shot of her wearing it. I think it's too recognizable to pawn, at least not locally."  
  
Blair nodded agreement. "I think a thief could get more for it by melting down the silver and selling it. Hopefully we can recover it before that happens. What about Edwards?"  
  
"She actually had pictures she'd taken for her insurance company. A large diamond and emerald ring, a black pearl necklace and earrings set, and some gem-encrusted brooch. Looks expensive… and gaudy."  
  
Blair's face scrunched up in concentration, then brightened. "I remember her wearing it a couple of times at Uni events. It's a family heirloom, maybe even an ancestral crest. I think her father's family is Welsh."  
  
"No hits yet," Jim continued. He reached for more chicken and asked, "What did you do after you left the conference room?"  
  
Blair shrugged. "I--" Just then the phone rang. Blair was closer and picked it up. "Sandburg. Oh hi. … What'd you find out? … Mm-hmm. Hold on a second, let me get something to write with." Jim was already pulling out a notepad and pen, pushing aside Blair's plate and putting them in front of Blair. "Okay, shoot," Blair said to the caller. He listened and scribbled. "Okay, thanks so much. This helps a lot. … Yeah, I didn't hear it from you," he said with a laugh. "I definitely owe you lunch. Bye."  
  
He turned to Jim. "That was--"  
  
"Sherri, I recognized her voice."  
  
Blair rolled his eyes. "Can't you at least pretend I can surprise you? Oh, never mind. I wanted to follow the personal grudge angle. I called Sherri and asked her to find out who's had a run-in with Edwards that goes beyond the usual. She came up with five names.  
  
"Three of them we can probably eliminate, because they're women. One is Harvey Pinkerton. He's a teaching fellow who just got his dissertation shot down by his committee. The scuttlebutt is Edwards had a word with the members and said she didn't like the subject matter. That it wouldn't reflect well on the university. He found out and had a shouting match with her."  
  
"Does that automatically make him a suspect?" Jim asked.  
  
"Not automatically, no. And my gut's saying it's not Pinkerton. He's a scholar without a lot of life experience. I don't think he has the skill set to pull off the burglaries. Besides, he's too young to wear Old Spice."  
  
"Hey, what do you mean? _I_ wear Old Spice."  
  
Blair patted Jim's face. "And I love it on you. But I see him going for something like CK. Anyway, get this. Our fifth name is Charlie Dankins. He's a prof in Criminology and Criminal Justice. I've never met him, but I've seen him at functions. He looks the right age--"  
  
" _Again_ with the ageism!" Jim said, but this time with a smirk.  
  
Blair ignored him and went over to the living room, booting up his laptop which sat on the coffee table. In a few minutes, he let out a whoop. "Look here. On his Rainier profile page, it says he's a former police officer. Came from Sacramento." Blair continued to skim the page. "He's been teaching at Rainer for five years."  
  
"And what's his beef with Edwards?"  
  
"He's been turned down for tenure. Sherri didn't know why, but that's a big deal. Especially at his age. It would be hard for him to start again at another uni; he'd have to put in at least another five years. Without tenure, he doesn't have any job security at Rainier."  
  
"As a former cop, he'd know how to burglarize a place without leaving forensic evidence."  
  
Blair nodded. "Yeah." He turned back to his computer and selected a different page. "He's got classes tomorrow. Want to give him the sniff test?"  
  
"I'd rather sniff you."  
  
Blair smiled and waggled his eyebrows. " _That_ can be arranged." He powered down his laptop and helped clean up the remnants of their meal. One last trip to the bathroom to brush their teeth and they were ready for a tender night together.

* * *

  
  
"Okay, let's go over this one more time," Jim said, looking at the group sitting around a table in the Student Union cafeteria. Paul Jenkins and Winona Yellow Robe were nodding in agreement. They were dressed in civilian clothes for the assignment. All four wore casual clothing, typical of what would be found on campus.  
  
Blair spoke up. "Professor Dankins is teaching a class. It's a small room." He pointed at a drawing he'd sketched of the classroom. "It's all on one level and there are only two exits.  
  
"We're going to wait until class is done and his students have left, just in case he's actually guilty and gets jumpy. Jim will enter the classroom once most of the students have left and will approach Dankins to ask him to come down to the station for questioning. I'll be behind him by about thirty seconds, coming in through the same door. You two wait about a minute or so after the last person exits your door, then you can enter the room casually, as if you're students coming in for the next class." He looked up and they both nodded their understanding.  
  
"He might do one of several things. He could play it cool, ask a few questions and then agree to come down to the station. Or he may play it cool but refuse to come."  
  
"What happens if he refuses to come?" Paul asked.  
  
"We'll back off. If we think from our exchange that he could be a serious suspect, then we'll try to get more evidence, enough for a warrant. Variations of these scenarios may be that he might get his back up, invoking his rights not to be bothered, maybe doing some ex-cop bravado. Any of those are acceptable and we don't want any escalation.  
  
"Where it might get dicey is if he panics and decides to make a run for it. If he does, he's going to try for one door or the other. We'll keep ourselves positioned between him and our exit and you'll be blocking your door. Do not--I repeat, do not--draw your weapons unless he's got a gun. You can use your pepper spray if he's able to break away from us and comes towards you. Tasering him is the next level to stop him." He looked at them both. "We don't think this will get out of hand with the four of us there. Between us, we've got a lot of experience with this type of thing. Any questions?" Both shook their heads. "Okay, then, class is out in about 20 minutes. Go station yourselves at the north door and wait until class lets out."  
  
He watched as the two partners walked away, then turned to Jim and said softly, "Okay, it's up to you. If he's wearing Old Spice…"  
  
"I'll have my 'lie detector' ears on, too. He might not recognize me, but I bet he knows you and that you're a cop, now. When you step through that door, it might become a flashpoint, so be ready." They stood up and went to wait outside the south door.

* * *

  
  
The class of "History of Crime and the Justice System" was not large--no more than thirty students were filing out of the exits, a few slower than others. Jim scoped out the room from outside to watch their progress. He took a deep breath and smiled without humor--among the various smells emanating from the room and its occupants was the distinct odor of Old Spice. He focused on Dankins and was able to smell the aftershave radiating from him. He nodded at Blair, waited politely while the last student exited through the door, then stepped into the classroom.

Jim assessed their suspect. Charlie Dankins was a big man with lank blond hair that hid the gray. Not as tall as Jim, he had more girth, although with the sedentary job he'd gone to seed. There was still enough muscle under the fat to make Jim cautious--if he put up a fight it could get ugly.  
  
"Professor Dankins?"  
  
"Hmm," Dankins answered as he focused on gathering up his papers. He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "Are you one of my students? I don't…" His eyes widened, and his heartbeat sped up.  
  
"No, I'm not," Jim answered. He watched as Dankins' eyes quickly assessed the room. He and Jim were the only occupants.  
  
Then Blair entered and Dankins startled. "What… what do you want?" He pulled himself to his full height and said stiffly. "I don't allow auditors in my classes. If you want to attend, you'll have to sign up. Registration is in the Administration building." He picked up his briefcase but left his papers.  
  
"Professor Dankins," Blair said softly and Dankins turned toward him. "Do you remember me--Blair Sandburg?" Dankins didn't answer. "I'm now with the Cascade Police Department." He pulled out his gold badge and showed it as he moved closer to the lectern. "This is my partner, Detective Ellison. We need to ask you a few questions about a recent burglary--"  
  
Dankins clutched his briefcase to his chest and quickly turned away from them toward the south door. Just then, that door opened and Winona and Paul sauntered in, looking like clueless students laughing over some joke while keeping their eyes on the scene. Dankins suddenly burst into action, making a dash for the door. He picked up speed and barreled towards them.  
  
"Stop, Cascade PD!" Paul shouted. Dankins continued to come towards them, apparently planning to push through, and Winona planted herself firmly in his path. When Dankins reached out to touch her shoulder, intending to push her out of his way, she used a shoulder chuck to stop his forward momentum and he fell backwards on his butt, his briefcase popping out of his hand. He reached for it as he scrambled to get up off the floor but stopped when Jim's hands pressed down firmly on Dankins' shoulders.  
  
"Easy, Dankins. As a former cop you know the routine. No sudden moves." Dankins fumed but didn't offer any resistance. Jim quickly frisked him, although he knew from the lack of gun oil smell that Dankins was unarmed. He and Blair each took an arm and hoisted Dankins to his feet, then Jim handcuffed him.  
  
"I'm a professor here," Dankins said angrily. "I demand to know why you're detaining me without probable cause."  
  
"We simply wanted to talk to you, Professor," Blair answered. "However, now we're arresting you for assaulting these two people, who happened to be Cascade Police officers. You have the right to remain silent…"

* * *

  
  
It didn't take sentinel hearing to know that Simon was on his phone. Jim and Blair turned toward their desks, but Simon looked up and waved them into his office.  
  
"Yes, sir," Simon was saying. "Yes, we'll see what we can do about that. … Absolutely. … Happy Holidays to you too. Goodbye." He got up and went to his coffee pot and pointed to it, questioning. "I made it just before I got the call." Both men accepted the offer.  
  
Simon sat down and leaned back in his chair. "Well, gentlemen, as much as I don't want this to go to your heads, you did an excellent job. Better than even I expected, and the damn Mayor thinks you walk on water."  
  
Blair grinned. "Only when it gets below freezing point. I suppose that doesn't translate into a raise?"  
  
Simon made a face. "I expect a citation for you two, and for Jenkins and Yellow Robe as well."  
  
"They both did a great job," Jim said. "If Winona hadn't waited for Dankins to touch her before knocking him on his ass, it would have taken a little longer to wrap this up."  
  
"Yeah," Blair agreed. "Who'd have thought he'd be dumb enough to carry Edwards' brooch in his briefcase? I guess it was like a victory trophy for him or something. When they logged his belongings at Booking, they found it."  
  
"Judge Atkins couldn't write the warrant to search his place fast enough after that," Simon said. "Forensics confirmed his fingerprints were on everything from all three places. Robbery is sorting out whose items are whose. They said it was like Santa's workshop, the gifts were piled so high. They're taking pictures of everything for evidence, so they can expedite getting the stuff back to the owners in time for Christmas." Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out the brooch. He handed it to Blair. "Do you want the pleasure of returning it to Edwards?" he asked.  
  
Blair held it, turning it over in his hands, then handed it to Jim.  
  
Jim studied it for a minute. "They're not very high-quality gems. I wonder if she knows."  
  
Blair shrugged. "Maybe. With an heirloom, I don't think it would matter. I expect she'll be happy to get it back, especially in time to wear it to the Uni's Winter Festival." He took it back from Jim. "Yeah, I'd like to give it back personally, sir. And I'd like to talk to the other two victims."  
  
Simon nodded. "I'll see about getting at least the jewelry released so you can give them back. We've got the pictures and the confession. Just let them know we might need to have their things assessed if it comes to how large a theft Dankins will be charged with." He opened his humidor and pulled out a cigar, which he twirled between his fingers. "Sandburg, I guess I should put you in charge more often. You and your partner can take the next couple of days off."  
  
"Very generous, sir, but today's Friday," Blair said drily. "We already have the next two days off."  
  
"So, make the most of it and get out of here," Simon said, giving them his "heh-heh" chuckle.

* * *

  
  
Monday afternoon found Jim in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Blair insisted on visiting the burglary victims by himself, leaving Jim free to type up the final reports, then do some food shopping. He'd just lowered the flame under a bubbling pot when Blair walked in.  
  
"So, how'd it go?" Jim asked, as he rummaged around in the refrigerator. He pulled out a bowl of salad and two beers, handing one to Blair.  
  
Blair opened the bottle and took a long swallow. "Not bad, actually. Mrs. Patterson was very sweet. She was happy to hear Dankins was caught and was fascinated at being the target of a serial burglar. I think she watches a lot of cop shows. She insisted I have cookies and tea with her while she told me about growing up on an apple orchard outside of Ellensburg. She gave me tips for buying the best apples." He chuckled. "I didn't tell her I knew someone who could pick out the best apples any time I wanted them."  
  
"Any chance you brought me any of those cookies?"  
  
Blair shrugged. "Sorry, babe, not a one."  
  
"And the others?" Jim asked delicately.  
  
Blair laughed. "You don't have to tiptoe around. I went to see Edwards next. She gave me a neutral greeting--I expect she'd already heard the cases had been solved. On the positive side, she addressed me as 'Detective Sandburg' and formally thanked me when I gave her back her jewelry. On the negative side, she said she knew there was something wrong with Dankins and she should have gotten rid of him long before now."  
  
Jim snorted. "Marie Edwards remains a self-centered bitch. Why am I not surprised? What about Adamson?"  
  
"Oh, she was _great_. She thanked me profusely for getting her squash-blossom necklace back. Apparently, it was given to her by a tribal chief and she was devastated when it was stolen. Then she took me over to the Institute and showed me all the work they're doing. They've partnered with local tribes to help them build real wealth. The Institute has a scholarship fund that gets kids through college, then offers them incentives to bring their knowledge back to enrich their families and tribes. They've set up an audio archive where tribal members can not only preserve their languages, but the elders are also recording oral histories and myths. She invited us out next time they have a large tribal court, so we can observe how their legal system works. Isn't that cool?" He looked over at Jim, who was stirring a pot on the stove, wearing a big grin. "What, are you laughing at me?"  
  
Jim's grin turned tender. "Nah, Chief. I'm just happy you hit it off with her. It all sounds great and your whole body is practically vibrating. It's good to see, especially when our job can weigh so heavily, that's all."  
  
Blair came over to Jim and took the spoon out of his hand and put it down. Then he turned Jim towards him and pulled his head down, giving him a long, lingering kiss. "I love you more than I can express," he said softly.  
  
"You're doing a pretty good job of it." Jim gave him one more kiss and picked up the spoon and stirred again. "Let's eat and then you can express some more."  
  
Blair gave him a sultry smile. "Sounds good." He looked in the pot for the first time. "Hey, is that…? You didn't, did you? You made ostrich chili?"  
  
Jim tasted the chili, then nodded in satisfaction and turned the burner off. He picked up the pot and put it on a hot pad on the table. "I thought you might need some comfort food," he said, returning to the kitchen. He sliced up a baguette, putting it in a bowl and bringing it to the table.  
  
"Thanks, babe. It smells great." Blair carried out the salad bowl, then sat down and started dishing out the food. "Oh, and get this: Felicia told me where she bought that outfit she had on the other day. She got on their website and we ordered one for Mom! We sent it to the Mahakankala Spiritual Center, where she'll be until the new year. She's going to love it!"  
  
With that Blair dug into his food, making 'yummy' noises. "So," he said, as he reached for a piece of bread, "how was your day, dear?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Best wishes from your Secret Santa, and your mod.


End file.
